Our Own Walls
by Swiss Army Knife
Summary: Zuko and Sokka undertake a straightforward reconnaissance of a Fire Nation village, but unlikely revelations lurk within the walls.
1. Chapter 1

**Our Own Walls**

by Swiss

* * *

**Part One**

It was a sweltering day. The sun blazed so brightly in the pale, washed out sky that even under the blue shade of the Air Temple's vast stone arches, the heat was oppressive. However, blistering heat was _not_ a good excuse to skip fire-bending practice.

Full of disdain, the resident fire-bending master watched as his pupil pleaded shamelessly for a reprieve. Clinging to his most likely source of succor, Aang begged, "Oh please, oh please. I need a break. Oh, _please_, Sokka."

Internally, Zuko scoffed at such antics. He looked like a little child petitioning his father for a day off from school.

Not that this was an entirely off-base comparison. It had, in fact, become quite clear to Zuko that the Water tribesman and his sister had taken on guardianship of the twelve-year-old Avatar. Culturized to be caretakers, the siblings seemed to have fallen into their roles naturally, unthinkingly. They had become a family, and as mediator and decision-maker, Sokka played a decidedly paternal role in their group.

It was something that had not changed, even with the arrival of Hakoda, the only actual father among them.

Hakoda had his son's quick wit and much of his daughter's pride, yet he seemed a subtle rather than an invasive presence. Nonetheless, his presence made Zuko uneasy. He had a brooding feeling that the tribesman almost certainly disliked him, and this sense was especially strong when the man lingered as he did now, at the edge of the commotion.

Sokka, meanwhile, appeared to be considering Aang's request. While the younger boy groveled, he stroked the ridge of his nose contemplatively. Finally he grinned, holding his friend back by an arm's length. "Okay, Aang. I think you've earned some time to relax."

Breaking through the air bender's exclamations of celebration, Zuko cut in. "Oh? And you've decided it's okay with his fire-bending master for him to 'take a break'?"

The Southerner grinned at him ruefully. "Sorry, Zuko, but this actually comes at a pretty good time. I've been meaning to make a trip into the nearest town, and I'd like you to go with me."

"Into town?" Katara's head stuck up from her place near the fire. "Sokka," she asked, "Why would we go back there?"

"Ah, well, not all of us." The young man idly scratched his neck, and Zuko noticed how his eyes flickered toward his father. As though, like the fire bender, he was still getting used to considering another potential voice. "I don't what to risk the whole group. But I'm interested in how the Fire Lord has responded to the invasion, and what he's saying about us and Aang. We need to know what's going on."

Zuko stepped closer, cautioning, "Rumors would be more misleading than informative. It's propaganda, straight from the politicians' mouths."

Sokka just nodded. "Yeah, that's what I want to hear. I want to know what Ozai wants everyone to know. And I want to see how it's affecting the people – if they're nervous or afraid. We need to put our ear to the ground."

Zuko frowned. He had a point. There _was_ a lot to be learned from what people _didn't_ say. "And you want me to come with you?"

Sokka nodded, looking more eager now that he was certain another understood. "We've infiltrated some of the villages before. Even, briefly," he chuckled, "the army."

"And a school!" Aang threw into the conversation, puzzling Zuko by performing a strange series of dance-like motions as he gallivanted in a circle.

"But," the Southerner continued, gesturing towards the former prince. "It could be even easier with your help. It is your Nation, after all."

"Sokka, I don't know," Katara trailed off, uncertain. "Infiltrating even a small village when they're on such high alert for us would be so dangerous. And –"

And. Zuko caught the way her eyes settled briefly on him, both distrustful and fearful. _And_ she didn't want her brother to run off with the deceitful Fire Nation prince. Who knew what monstrous atrocities he might inflict on Sokka while they were off on their own?

Zuko tried to hum instead of growl as he'd seen his uncle do, but it wasn't very successful in subduing his temper. "Let's go," he deciding on a whim, half in defiance of that disapproving look.

The tension that had grown was fairly palpable, weighing down the air between the pillars. Toph and Aang were both gazing between them as though waiting for a climax, but Sokka was ever the defuser. "Now, guys, I've thought this all out carefully," he said, walking between them and gesturing placating. To his sister, he gently pointed out, "Zuko's done a lot to show he's trustworthy. Because of him, Aang is learning to fire bend. He helped us take care of that assassin. He tells stupid jokes."

"Hey," Zuko began, but Sokka plowed over him.

Looking into his sister's stubborn face, he told her, "I promise we'll be safe, Katara, but this will help us. We need supplies we can't get here, anyway. Didn't you say you wished we had more of those awful smelling weeds?"

"Healing herbs," Katara corrected him, but she was smiling indulgently now. "Okay," she acquiesced. "I'll make you a list. But I expect you back in one piece, or else."

The 'or else' lingered in the air like a sharp piece of ice positioned uncomfortably near one's jugular, and Zuko had the clear impression that the threat had been meant entirely for him. As in, _Sokka_ had better come back in one piece, or Katara would be grafting him back together again with bits of Zuko's carcass.

"Dad?" Sokka looked to the older man, who'd stood by thoughtfully throughout the conversation without saying a word.

A moment of contemplation was followed by a slight inclination of his head. "This is possibly something only you can do, Sokka. Men like Chit Sang and I would never be able to pass unnoticed, but two young boys…"

The Southerner's face lit up with his approval.

Aang pumped his arm appreciatively. "And that means a break from training!"

"Not so fast, Twinkletoes." Toph was grinning evilly. "If Zuko's going to be gone, then I think this will be an excellent time to get your earth bending in shape. You still move dirt like a pebble-pusher."

"She makes a good point," Katara agreed from over their cook pot. "You aren't a master of all the elements yet."

The Avatar deeply groaned, bowing over. He didn't bother petitioning Sokka again. Apparently he already knew that the will of mommy and bullying big sister conquered all.

A question had occurred to Zuko which he asked now, looking over the Southerner critically. The young man was head to toe blue and navy, the tunic, jewelry, and armguards all distinctively foreign. His scruffy tail of hair made him look even more...tribal. "Surely you're not going like that."

Sokka picked at his clothes with dark brown hands, blinking blue-eyed in quite a comical way. "What? You think I'm indiscrete?" he asked innocently.

The others laughed. "We have disguises, oh wise Prince Obvious," Toph scoffed at him. "Sokka even has a whole set of Fire Nation armor. You know, with the mask." She curled her fists around her eyes like telescope lenses in a humorous rendition of the infamous invasion force helmets.

Zuko was slightly stunned. Their words from earlier about their foray into the Fire Nation returned to him. "The army?" he inquired, hardly daring to believe it.

"Yep," Sokka grinned. "Army and navy, actually. Though after _our _trip, I don't know why you're so surprised. For this, I think I'll just go with the red tunic, though. Seriously, do you people even _make_ clothes in other colors?"

Zuko had to turn his back moodily to cover the quirk that threatened to turn up the corner of his mouth. He retorted, "Humph, you should talk. Do you wear blue so that you blend into the _fathomless_, _glacial_ _wilderness_ where you come from?"

"Actually yes," Sokka answered, quite cheerily and completely untouched by offence. He posed like a prowling hunter. "Yes, we do."

The fire-bender crossed his arms. "Okay, fine for you. What about this," he gestured to his face. Any citizen with half a mind would recognize the twice-traitor now.

But the intelligent, crazy Water tribesman just smirked. "No problem."

* * *

Their "disguises" worked out better than Zuko expected.

Sokka did indeed have an outfit of suitable clothes. Bedecked in rust and brown and crowned with a cheap ornament of red flame, he looked absolutely like any Fire Nation native Zuko had ever seen. His eyes even seemed less obviously blue.

For Zuko himself, they'd toned down the quality of his clothing with a little dirt and a few unnecessary patches to make them look mended. Like Sokka, he pulled his hair back into the topknot that was so typical of his people, transforming him from raggedy rouge to travel-worn but ordinary youth.

"You look so regular," Suki commented when he had finished. Her acceptance of their plan was, in contrast to Katara, mostly amused.

"Yeah," Zuko answered her. But not glumly, no. "All except for the disfiguring scar."

But his companion had already resolved this. With a flourish, Sokka presented the group with a strip of clean cotton. "Here," he said, unceremoniously wrapping it around Zuko's head and eye. "It's like a bandage, so anyone who notices will just think you're clumsy."

Zuko reached up to gently prod the odd pressure against his face, trying to get a feel for it. It actually wasn't a completely stupid idea, though the sensation of the cloth against his face did bring back uncomfortable memories. "I think it will work," he admitted.

Obviously pleased with himself, Sokka gave Zuko an amicable shove forward and then spread his arms wide as though presenting them for the group's inspection. "Well?" he asked. "Do we look alright?"

The remaining members of the gang, even the Earth Kingdom boys, stared. "Freaky," Teo spoke for the entire gathering.

"He's right," Hokoda spoke, his lips quirking. "As strange as it sounds, you could be brothers." Brothers colored in different shades, anyway.

Sokka broke the tension with a snort. "Give me a break – I'm way more handsome than _Zuko_. So the disguises knock out some of the differences. Everybody looks the same in these things anyway." He pointed to the topknot disdainfully.

Zuko rolled his eyes, even if he secretly agreed.

Forestalling any further discussion, the Southerner went to grab their meager bag, which was mostly empty in anticipation of the supplies they would be bringing back. He went over their plans again. "We'll head southeast like Zuko suggested and hopefully hit a town this evening. I expect you'll see us in two days, but don't just come running after us if we don't. The last thing we need is a blotched rescue attempt. Discreetness!" he declared, puncturing the air with one finger.

Zuko sighed with exasperation at almost the same time Katara did, and they took a moment to glare at one another. "You better not get him into trouble," she growled at whisper volume while the subject of their confrontation rattled off final instructions to a vapid-looking Aang and an indifferent Toph.

The fire-bender's nose scrunched, a clear indication that he was on the verge of loosing his temper. "He'll be fine. Do you think I'm going to eat him?"

"I think you're a thoughtless, self-absorbed jerk," Katara retorted without hesitation, and the conviction in her voice was so strong that it gave Zuko pause. "I don't think you've ever looked out for someone else your whole life, and I don't know if you're capable of it."

Zuko's voice coiled metallically. "Is their a point to this?"

"He just better come back in once piece," she said.

Sokka hailed them then – "Katara, quit threatening Zuko! We're leaving!" – and the fire bender joined his strangely changed companion, leaving the girl and her glower behind. She stood at the edge of the precipice as the others waved them off, her hands fisted over her breasts as they disappeared over the horizon.

Sinking mournfully into Appa's saddle, Zuko sulked. "Your sister hates me."

Sokka looked back towards the rapidly sinking figures. "She's worried," he judged. "That's all. We'll just have to try really hard not to die."

* * *

It was just before sunrise when the boys caught sight of a suitable village, nestled around the bay of a small but obviously inhabited island. Far below them, tiny dark vessels were already moving in and out of deeper water, and there appeared the be a market of at least a moderate size.

Rubbing his eyes sleepily, Sokka surveyed the ground. "I don't see any Navy ships, do you?"

"No," Zuko answered, his gaze sharp. A measure of tension drained from him automatically. "It should be safe." Or at least as safe as any place in the Fire Nation was for them now.

More fully awake, Sokka grinned into the chilly air current kicked up by Appa's propulsion. He stroked the enormous bison encouragingly. "Hey, buddy. Can you circle around to the edge of those farms – to where the forest is?"

"So far outside the wall?" Zuko pondered. It occurred to him to puzzle over the wall itself – an impressive metal structure twice as high as a man that surrounded the entire town. Outside of it there were only plowed fields and a narrow road straggling inland. "Why a wall like that?" he wondered. "Even at the edge of the bay, look."

"A floodwall?" Sokka guessed. "If so, they chose a poor material. They'd have been better off with earth or stone."

Zuko didn't say so, but he still felt fairly certain the wall was intended to control something other than the sea.

It didn't take them long to reach the undeveloped land by air. Appa set them down gently in an outcropping of thick foliage, gurgling deeply in his throat until Sokka praised him. "Good boy, Appa. You should wait here while we investigate."

A lowing sound of understanding, though the animal did give a kind of exasperated huff as though to say, '_I know how this goes_.'

The gate of the wall was open wide when they reached it, watched only by one lazy looking guard observing the carts of produce, people, and farm equipment as they trickled by. He straightened against his spear, however, when he caught sight of the unfamiliar young men.

"Hey," he called to them, affectedly casual but with a definite challenging undertone. He gazed over them when they obediently halted. "You boys here for business?"

It occurred to Zuko that they hadn't discussed their cover story, but before he could stammer out something believable, Sokka was slapping him on the back and cheerfully explaining, "We were heading here to look for work, but we sorta crashed our boat a little south of the bay." He scratched his head with a self-depreciating grimace. "Hadta walk."

To the fire-bender's astonishment, the guard nodded his head sympathetically. "That's a lethal lee shore. You're lucky to be alive." He rebuked, "What were you thinking, taking an unfamiliar route before daybreak?"

Sokka wilted like a scolded puppy. "I _know_," he said mournfully. "My boat looks like shattered toothpicks."

"Someone will help you get the hull off the teeth once you're established yourself." Then the man actually clapped Sokka on the shoulder. "Well, just keep in mind that these doors close at dusk, so if you're camping, be on time. Security's tight at night – no excuses. Anyone trying to get in or out is arrested on the spot."

"But why such precautions?" Zuko dared to inquire.

For some reason, the guard looked at the former prince with a far less friendly expression than he had Sokka. Tight-lipped, Zuko could practically see the suspicion growing in him…

"It _is_ weird," Sokka put in, poking his chin as though he were the most harmless dolt in the world. "At home there was just this rickety old stick fence, and I think that was mostly to keep the cowpigs from wandering off."

Zuko actually watched the man's face mellow. He asked, "Ain't you heard, farm boy? A pack of halfwit renegades tried to attack the capital. They've got them locked up tight now, but the army sent out a warning there could be some stragglers trailing up and down the island chains."

"Oh! Was there any word about the identity of the raiders?"

The guard was contemptuous. "Just a bunch of Water Tribe pirate trash."

Sokka had tensed at the description of the 'pirate trash', undoubtedly the fathers, uncles, and clansman of his tribe. Very quietly, he said, "I see."

"Yeah, everyone's pretty nervous. So you boys better stay out of trouble, understood?" His gaze seemed to bite into Zuko particularly.

The disguised tribesman waved, giving a motivating yank on his companion's sleeve. "Will do! Wish us luck."

"Luck," the man granted, gesturing them onwards. Then they were inside on a dirt and cobble path leading through an array of colorful houses and fluttering laundry. There were any number of folk about, going about their business.

"They didn't tell the people that the Avatar is alive or that the 'raiders' were anything more than an isolated rabble. I suspected it would be this way," Zuko admitted. Information was too carefully controlled in the Fire Nation for things to be otherwise.

Sokka nodded. He was no longer affecting a dullard's merriment, but there was also no anger or surprise in his expression. "Yeah," he said, adjusting their bag. "I figured so too."

The marketplace was only a short walk from the edge of town and brought with it the smell of fish. The myriad stalls supported any number of products, and the morning sun made the plaster on the buildings seemed bright and wholly unaffected by war. There was buying and selling going on in a complicated ritual of haggling. Money was exchanged, something that Zuko had never needed in his own country. The casual greetings, speech, and slang were bewildering, and as they walked, it became increasingly clear to Zuko that he wasn't going to be much more use in this place than Momo would have been. He'd traveled the world, but in his own nation he had been a prince. He'd probably visited fewer Fire Nation villages than Sokka.

"Living in the lower ring of Ba Sing Se must have been a real transition for you," Sokka commented. Seeing the fire bender's startled expression, he chuckled. "Heh, you had this wondering look on your face. But don't worry. I figured that."

"Why did you want me along then?" Zuko wanted to know.

"Honestly," he said, leaning closer as though sharing a secret. "You looked as though you could use a break as much as Aang."

Zuko considered this. How _did_ he feel? For one thing, he wasn't used to so many people. Then there was the continual hostility that radiated from Katara, and the hesitant looks the others sometimes gave him. His uncertainty about Sokka's father. It was a strain, sometimes.

A skipping game had been marked out on the ground and Sokka paused to observe with interest. After watching a few repetitions, the tribesman joined the dragon's tail and leapt through the complicated pattern with ease. The children clapped with delight at one of the big boys joining their game. One tugged on the hem of Zuko's shirt, but he only stepped back, declining the invitation.

After he'd said goodbye, Sokka teased, "Gee, Zuko. Too repressed to play a kiddy game?"

"I don't play," the fire-bended answered. It was mostly true. It had been a long, long time since he'd done something so carefree as a chalk game. Probably such activities predated the departure of his mother. His mother…

"We didn't do those kinds of things at the South Pole either," the tribesman shared.

A quirk of humor overcame Zuko. "Did you play with _snow_?" he asked.

"Yes," Sokka readily admitted, as cheerfully as before. "I fished, learned to hunt, to fight, to cook. To build things…with _snow_," he emphasized, grinning. "Everything was made of snow. Dazzling white towers so bright that they could hurt your eyes if you didn't wear the right gear. Walls and turrets and stairs." He spread his arms as though to encompass this glistening spectacle. "There _were_ dances though," he added, sounding wistful. "But we hadn't done them for a long time."

"Why not?" Zuko wondered, caught up in the description.

Sokka's steady pace slowed, shoulders rolling. Keeping his face turned away, he said, "The dances are for marriages, births, successful hunts, springtime, coming of age. But our numbers have dwindled so much. Katara and I were the only ones even near marring age, and the hunters were busy being warriors. Nobody felt much like celebrating."

It was a disheartening story, and one that made Zuko feel uncomfortable. He knew why the numbers at the South Pole had been diminished, and it made his stomach churn with shame. "I'm sorry," he murmured, meaning it.

Sokka stopped, grinning at him. "You know, it's sort of enough for me that you feel that way. I don't blame you for everything that the Fire Nation's done. But, if things turn out the way we hope, I'd like to be able to hold you responsible for the future." Then, blinking, he looked around. "Now, where do you think we can find some of Katara's smelly weeds?"

"Healing herbs," Zuko said automatically, and lead them in a likely direction.

Sokka followed with an expression as mild as if they had spent the morning discussing potted plants. The fire-bender could envy his rapid recovery. His own troubled thoughts always dwelled in him deep, like smoldering embers.

* * *

By the early afternoon, Zuko was convinced that Sokka could successfully infiltrate any place he pleased. Something about him just _blended_. Little old woman preened when he winked at them, strangers that he'd never met waved back and smiled. He bumbled enough, smiled enough, that he seemed completely innocuous. After a while, it became hard for even Zuko to discern how much was just acting. He certainly _seemed_ completely comfortable here.

A good example of this occurred when Zuko turned around from a stall just in time to see Sokka jostle an enormous villager carrying a hoe. Beside the man, the tribesman seemed runty – his shoulders half the farmer's size. But Sokka just grinned as though he'd run into a beloved old uncle rather than a burley, red-faced laborer. Incredibly, he gave the man a shove. "Hey, watch out for those of us smaller than a house, huh?"

The fire-bender saw the furrowed, stormy expression and almost expected that the giant to clout Sokka across the head. But instead his face transformed, turning from irritation to amusement.

"You've got a lot of nerve for a scrawny whelp," he answered. "In town for work, boy? I've got a few fields that could use an extra pair of hands, provided a good work ethic comes with that big mouth."

Sokka laughed. "We're actually just passing through." He gestured generously toward Zuko, drawing him into the conversation after that particular way of his. "Me and my friend."

Perhaps it was the way he stood, or something in his face, but just as before with the guard, the farmer took one look at Zuko and his face creased with distrust. "You look out of place, boy," he challenged.

"We're from the Fire Nation colonies." Sokka shrugged, as if that explained everything. And possibly it did, because the farmer was suddenly nodding agreeably. Zuko was boggled, but the Southerner just gave him a shove. "We need to go. Come on, Zu…er, Zukka."

"_Zukka?_" the fire-bender demanded when they were well enough away.

"Yeah! That makes me Suko." The tribesman wiggled his fingers expressively. "Hm. Possibly needs more z's. Suzo? I want a double letter. I am Suzzo!"

"We don't use double letters in the Fire Nation."

But he'd underestimated Sokka. The young man countered, "The second letter will be silent. Only me and you will know."

Zuko's brain throbbed from the sheer ludicrous nature of this conversation, but at the same time he found himself having to swallow a smile. This idiot was ridiculous, but somehow his absurdity put off even _Zuko's_ withering moods.

Still, he was troubled. "I didn't expect this to be so easy," he admitted. "My uncle would tell me that a person is always most surprised by what happens within their own walls, but still…"

Sokka looked at him sympathetically. "Nobody expects the enemy to be like themselves," he said.

A more true and ironic statement had never been said. As he reached to smooth the bandage at the side of his face, the word filtered through Zuko's consciousness: _traitor_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

* * *

In the early afternoon, when they had finished most of their shopping, the two passed by a outpost of the Fire Nation guards that policed most every village of any size. Outside of the small building was a shaded paddock, and inside that shelter was a handful of severe-looking creatures the color of volcanic rock.

"Oh!" Sokka stopped dead in the street, captivated. "Zuko, let's go take a closer look."

The fire-bender surveyed the soldiers leaning casually around the doorframe. "I don't know," he said, reluctant to be so near, no matter how good their disguises.

The Water tribesman, however, seemed to possess none of his fear. He jerked Zuko bodily towards the rail. "Come on, it's about time you showed me something Fire Nation-y."

Without any choice, Zuko allowed himself to be drawn nearer to the snorting mounts.

"Wow." Sokka seemed fascinated by the enormous grunting animals, which he had never seen from any perspective other than fleeing prey. His keen eyes followed the scaled eye ridges and curving, yellow-grey horns.

The nearest one rumbled at Sokka, pawing restlessly, but when Zuko held out his hand the beast puffed, butting its moist nostrils against his fingers. "They can smell the fire," the fire-bender explained. "So you should stay away from them; your charm won't fool _their_ noses."

The Southerner chuckled, audaciously stretching out a tentative digit. The kamodo rhino gnashed its teeth, lunging with a vicious twist of his muzzle so that the razor point was brought to bear. Sokka practically fell off the rail getting out of the way, laughing even as he tumbled.

They left without even receiving a passing glance from the chatting soldiers, consumed as they were with the task of staying out of the heat.

"I guess we should see what information we can dig up know," Sokka suggested, adjusting their sack.

They were passing through the central plaza at that time, and at the center of the open space a great bronze statue was situated, spouting flame like a fountain of fire. Zuko paused, bowing his head briefly. The action attracted the attention of his companion. "What's it for?" Sokka asked.

The great deity glowed in the strong midday light. Glad to be able to share something with the tribesman that he didn't know, Zuko explained, "It's to glorify Agni. Fire-benders get our power from the sun."

Sokka seemed to understand this. After all, so far as he understood, it had been the tribesman who had planned to invade the Fire Nation on the one day when the sun would not rule the sky.

* * *

Before they split up, the two boys decided to step in out of the incredible heat to get a drink. Zuko had mixed feelings about being in a tea house again; the familiar sound of china clinking together and the wafting smells brought back complicated memories of tranquility and misery.

As did the twittering girls that sat at one of the front tables.

Zuko had no idea how to be charming. He hardly knew what to say to a woman who couldn't kill him. Sokka seemed to have no such problems, however. As they passed, he flashed the pretty young women a smile that made their cheeks darken, and one fluttered her fan invitingly. But apparently the tribesman was just a flirt, because he gave a pleasant yet disinterested wave and poked Zuko toward the other side of the room.

Feeling a dark moodiness overcoming him again, Zuko was not very polite to the server who brought them their order. Glaring down at the steaming liquid, Zuko had to fight a desire to throw the cup to the floor. Certainly it could never be as good as his uncle's.

"That's quite a face, young man," a wavery voice broke through his contemplation, and he looked up into the heavily wrinkled face of their server.

Zuko wanted to tell him to mind his own business, but the tribesman kicked his shin under the table, and he muttered, "Sorry."

The server patted him on the head, and Zuko made a face. Terrific. He was being patronized by the little old tea man. "Don't look so grousy, my boy. Tea soothes the spirit, eh?" It almost sounded like something his uncle would say.

With a look of hesitation, he lifted his cup and gave it a dubious look. Well, best to at least try.

Sokka, meanwhile, had drunk his own tea all in one gulp like water and then whipped his mouth with his wrist. "Well?"

A hesitation, a wrinkled nose. Then Zuko wilted. "I miss my uncle," he said.

The expression on the tribesman's face softened. He knew Iroh, of course, and had heard even more about him from conversations they'd shared. He knew how much regret Zuko harbored about how he'd left things between them. Reaching out, he patted Zuko's arm wordlessly. It's okay.

"You ready to go?" he asked instead.

The fire-bender nodded.

* * *

The two split up after leaving the tea-shop, intending to spread out over the village and collect what intelligence they could. Honestly, Sokka was a little worried about allowing the disheartened fire-bender to wander on his own, but it couldn't be helped. Zuko would undoubtedly have been insulted by any suggestion that he needed someone to look out for him.

So Sokka meandered on his own, making small talk and wandering around the topic of recent happenings until he landed on a likely subject. It wasn't hard; people loved to gossip. Still, he found he was going to have to push a little harder. Information was big on rumor and "Water Tribe pirates" and low on news about the avatar and the war.

He breeched the subject finally with an elderly woman who he'd charmed by helping with a handful of groceries. He'd escorted her to the courtyard outside her home, and there they'd paused, chatting while people moved around them.

"Really, it's so good to see strong young men around here again," she was saying. "What with the war, nearly all the handsome lads leave to join the army. I'll be glad when there's no need for that anymore."

Sokka made a dramatic face of alarm. "Me in the army? Probably they'd throw me out in a week."

She pinched his cheek. "For what? Bad jokes? No, little one. The army never lets anyone go without shaping them for war, not even sassy farm boys like you."

Tickled by her description of him, Sokka ventured to ask, "Speaking of the war, it wasn't much spoken of where I come from. We heard things, about the Avatar. What ever happened to him?"

It was as though he had poured cold water over the woman's head; her cheeks paled. Shifting her gaze around uneasily, she cautioned lowly, "Better you didn't speak like that, child."

Genuinely puzzled, the tribesman said, "I don't understand."

"We aren't supposed to speak of him, and there are ears everywhere these days. It's dangerous to talk about the Avatar –"

Even though she had rasped this at barely above a whisper, apparently it hadn't been quietly enough. From behind him, a hand lunged over Sokka's shoulder, gripping the old woman by the bodice of her dress. A harsh voice barked, _"What did you say?"_

The soldier must have been standing somewhere nearby and had heard the word '_avatar'_ in the midst of their conversation. Garbed fully in the intimidating scale-like armor of the Fire Nation forces, he shook the frail body, regardless of her age or the terror in her eyes.

Infuriated by the treatment of someone who had spoken to him so kindly, Sokka intervened. Pressing himself between the soldier and the woman, he pried his hands from her clothing and gave a firm shove.

"Leave her alone!" he demanded.

The confrontation had already begun drawing a crowd, and, alerted by the raised voices, a pair of other guards were also heading their way. Sokka felt that now was the time to leave, but the little old woman was still curled at his back, and he could feel her trembling.

The soldier soon recovered from the shock of someone daring to defy him. "Boy," he addressed Sokka. "You will get out of my way, or there will be severe consequences."

Sokka didn't allow the officer to save face. "Why? So you can bully an old woman?"

There was an almost audible intake of air from the spectators, and without warning the armored man cuffed Sokka ruthlessly across the face. "_Who do you think you are?_" he snarled in a rage.

Pressing his fingers to his nose, knowing that it was weeping blood, Sokka answered him, "Someone passing through. I didn't know about the rules. I didn't mean to get her in trouble. It was my fault."

This belated attempt to pacify was ineffective. There were enough people watching by this time to exacerbate any situation, and the cluster of reinforcements made the soldier even bolder. With jagged eyes, he took Sokka in from head to toe, and for the first time the tribesman felt a thrill of fear – a flickering of uncertainty that his ruse would shield his identity.

"I think you stand for a more careful interrogation," he said, and reached for Sokka's throat.

* * *

Zuko had made some progress in the quest to discover the general atmosphere of the Fire Nation. It seemed generally known that someone _had_ attempted an assault on the capital, though most were unconcerned – surely only madmen could believe they had a chance against the forces of Fire Lord Ozai.

However, though at first the crowds had seemed unaffected, Zuko had also detected an underlining tension. The war was in everyone's mouth. No one knew for sure, but most sensed that something was happening.

Zuko stopping at a stall selling various kinds of fresh seafood. A portrait of his father was displayed prominently on the back wall, overwhelming everything within the range of its printed gaze. It was as he stood there looking up at the picture morosely that Zuko heard the commotion.

It started with raised voices, something he hardly noticed, but than came a sharp cry in a familiar voice. Zuko's head snapped around. Sokka? He was away from the booth and heading towards the noise before he'd even finished forming the thought.

Unfortunately, by the time he reached the courtyard, the damage had already been done. A solider wearing an officer's paraphernalia had Sokka firmly by throat, and he was flanked by several others of his kind.

Zuko reacted without thinking, the adrenaline that pumped through him inciting action. All he could think of was that _this_ was what he knew of the Fire Nation – military hierarchy and command. The order was out of his throat before he had time to really consider what he was doing.

"Release him immediately," Zuko barked, marching up to the cluster of soldiers with his most authoritative tone and posture.

Only when they looked at him as though he had grown an extra head did he recall that he was no one in this place, a stranger – a _farmer_, if he were to follow Sokka's imagined story. Peasant. How ironic that he had always called the two Water tribe siblings that. And here he was in their position, even in his own land.

"Another mouthy brat who doesn't know who they're dealing with," the officer said, glaring at him. "I should arrest you too, just for that."

"He's not with me. Leave him alone." Sokka's eyes bore into Zuko's imploringly.

Did he really think Zuko would leave him?

The fire-bender's expression must have shown his aversion to the very notion, because the tribesman pierced him with another message. '_Prince_,' he seemed to be saying. Remember who they might discover you are. Think of the consequences.

But Azula would recognize Sokka just as easily, and the fire-bender didn't want to think about what his father would do if he realized he had captured the mastermind of the Day of Black Sun. Zuko, he would probably only _kill_.

"Please let him go." It seemed incredible that Zuko was even able to force such humble words out of his mouth. They were slick, tacky and bitter in his throat. Zuko pleaded, "Please, he talks too much, but he's just an idiot. We were only passing through, anyway. We're leaving tonight. Please."

They weren't buying it. A hint of real fear cooled his blood, and the Zuko found himself uncertain of what he was going to do. The soldier's grip around Sokka's neck was large and very sturdy. Starting a fight here was _not_ an option.

Salvation came from an unexpected quarter. Out of the crowd, an overloud voice blustered, "Oi, you've found them. I've been looking all over for you, boy."

Pushing his way through the gathered people, a corpulent man stepped up to stand directly beside Zuko. He possessed the permanently chapped cheeks of one who spent much of his time at sea, and his yellow eyes were murky with jaundice. _Swarthy_, Zuko thought with emphasis as the man rubbed an unevenly shaved jaw line. It took him a moment to realize that the barrel-chested man had been bellowing at him.

"I..." he stammered.

A growl resonated from somewhere deep and came out rasping across the jowls. "Is that anyway to speak to your father?" the stranger rebuked. "I'd rattle ya, if I weren't so fond."

"These are your sons?" The soldier seemed just as surprised as Zuko himself, though he hid it much less effectively.

"Aye." The newcomer clapped his hand firmly over Zuko's clavicle. It felt like a vice, as though the adolescent's bones were thin as a birds and might easily snap if too much pressure were exerted. He cackled. "A good strong lad, my boy. Though a bit stupid." He stopped Zuko's glare with a playful clout.

"Both boys?" the officer clarified. He looked doubtfully between Zuko and Sokka, at their obvious difference in coloring.

The sturdy intruder gave a murky chuckle. "The one you've got is a little bastard, but yeah. Mother left him nigh high with me, abandoned to care for." He gestured to a space about at his knee, shaking his head mournfully. Then he cursed Sokka's 'mother,' her profession, and the bed she gave birth on quite rudely.

Red with ire and confusion, Sokka squirmed in the guard's grip. Yet when the tall man stepped up and gestured for him, the soldier turned him over and the Water tribesman exchanged one grip for another.

"They said they were passing through, bound to leave tonight." The officer made one last suspicious inquiry.

It was as though a blaze had sprung up behind the stranger's eyes. He turned to glare down at Sokka, clearly infuriated. "You stirring up that nonsense about taking off again? You ungrateful brat."

Then he stuck Sokka a viscously backhand, so unexpectedly that the boy yelped at the blow.

"And dragg'n your brother into it. As though we haven't done right by you. By the blazing sun." He turned to the officer, eyes smoldering but tone even. "This one's always trying to run. But I'll take care of him."

Seeing the belief in the soldier's eyes, Zuko edged closer to his captured friend, who was playing the part of cowed runaway very well. He still looked stunned by the rough handling.

"Come on, son," their incomprehensible rescuer called to Zuko, marching back the way he came, all while keeping his hold on Sokka's forearm. The Water tribesman had no option but to follow, and the fire-bender trailed them just as powerlessly, unwilling to abandon Sokka and with no other way out but through the ring of soldiers and spectators, watching them depart.

When they reached the side roads, the intruder spoke. "Well then, you were in quite a rut there, boys." The man sneered without breaking pace. "Lucky I was passing by and had enough...scruples to help."

Scruples. Zuko bet. More like a lack of any, to lie to those soldiers.

As though he had read Zuko's mind, the man answered, "I wouldn't be so picky. Or perhaps you'd have liked it better if I'd let them snap his neck. Better that way, right, you little whoreson?" He shook Sokka roughly, laughing in an ugly way at his own joke.

Alright, that was enough.

Zuko leapt in front of the man, forcing him to barrel him over or halt. he spread his hands. "Listen, thanks for getting us away from that situation, but we're not going any further with you." He looked at Sokka. The curve of his cheek was already swelling. "Let my friend go."

The stranger grinned like a salamander, as though he had a belly full of fire, but was cold, cold blooded. "Shall I?" he asked. "The sun is almost down, and the gates of the city are closing. You could try to get out another way, but the sentries are very touchy these days. And there is nowhere in the city that will take in such motley strangers so late. Not with the trouble you caused and a foolish story about 'passing through.' Bah. You're in a bind. You need somewhere to stay. So you'll come with me and accept my hospitality for a night. Well, your highness?"

The appellation was heart-stopping, but Zuko realized almost immediately that the man was just mocking his mannerisms. He could see it in the man's eyes – he was cruel, but uncomplicatedly so. He didn't know who Zuko was. Quiet, dangerous, he repeated, "Let go of him."

The man met his eyes and must have seen something there, because he closed his wide mouth and pursed his lips. Then he let go of Sokka with a shove. "Fine."

He was obviously waiting for a response to his offer of shelter, but Zuko didn't know how to answer him. He looked to the sallow tribesman, whose analytic blue eyes were glued to their rescuer. Sokka murmured, "We may not have any choice, Z...Zukka."

Holding his gut, the man laughed. "Have a mouth after all, do we? I had though his Lordship was in charge, but perhaps it's the bastard. Well, darkie? What do you say?"

It seemed obvious that Sokka would rather have been anywhere else on earth, but the shadows were so deep by now that they stretched over the whole of the ally. They were deep in the city, closer to the bay than the gate. Even if they hurried, they would not make it out of the village before the doors closed them in.

And they could not afford to risk more trouble, to draw more attention.

Finally, Sokka gave a deeply reserved inclination of the head. Alright.

Another cold chuckle. "I'm Raizu Li," the stranger said, and the name sounded like an ominous thunder coming out of his crooked mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

* * *

Raizu led them further from the center of the village, angling towards the narrow stretch of land sandwiched between the outer wall and the iron ridge that bordered the bay. They wound through alleys that seemed increasingly aged and unkempt, fading gradually from the smooth white stone to water-stained wood and disrepair.

Soon they had reached an area that was essentially slums. Trash was piled up in corners. There were visible pests and a strong stink of fish. In fact, much of it seemed to be fishing quarters; nets hung across everything, many with half-mended holes and evidence of neglect.

Zuko and Sokka sunk instinctively closer to one another. As they passed a muttering, emaciated man lying on a mat, knees and elbows covered with sores, a look passed between them. Perhaps they were both thinking of Ba Sing Se. Even when many prospered, there was always hidden poverty. Every place had their dark spots.

"Skulk along at that pace and we'll be out here long past sundown," the gravely voice of Raizu immediately recalled their attention. "We're almost there."

It wasn't far. Their host seemed to own a low shack near the water level, directly under the shadow of the wall. It seemed more sturdily built than its neighbors, a little larger and more carefully put together. The heavy-set man talked steadily as he unlocked the door. "I have a boat off the dock just a short distance from here. I do business all down this chain of islands – all the way to the capital itself. I'm a very successful man."

There was a shed butting up to the building's side, and Zuko looked at it critically, a strange feeling of dread creeping inexplicably up the ridge of his spine. The doors had a padlock. "What's in there?" he dared to ask.

A look cast over one hulking shoulder. "Oh, that. Tools of the trade. Devices of hospitality. And none of your business at the moment, your highness."

The door came open and they were gestured inside. It felt like walking voluntarily into prison; Zuko almost cast away all reason and darted down the grey roads, dragging Sokka behind him. But it was fully night now; black without even stars as the day's heat rose and hazed the sky. What moon could be seen was red, and no good light.

There was little inside the house, if it could be called that. A table, mismatching chairs. A fat iron stove and a sagging futon shoved in a corner. A flight of stairs. Raizu went to one of the chairs and scrapped it out. "C'mere, boy," he gestured to Sokka. "You look about ready to fall off your feet."

The fire-bender was startled by the evaluation, and looked to Sokka for signs of weariness. It was true; he seemed to be sagging. The swollen area around his eye seemed especially inflamed and painful. Still, he hesitated to accept the offered seat.

"Go on," Zuko gave him a gentle push. If they were here, he might as well rest.

"You called your friend Zukka," Raizu spoke once Sokka had sunk onto the wobbly chair. He fetched a glass of water and pressed it into the young man's hand. "But your name I don't know. Or shall I continue to call you whoreson?"

"I'm not your son," Sokka said firmly. Obviously, like Zuko, the ruse Raizu had chosen to save them was staying with him like a bad taste in his mouth. But nonetheless… "I'm Sozzu," he answered, and Zuko caught the tiny smile Sokka privately offered him. Silent double letters. It was strange how the memory made the situation seem less grave.

"Odd names," Raizu muttered, puttering around the small space. Seeing that Sokka had laid aside his empty cup, he gestured towards the slanting stairs. "You'll stay till morning. There's a loft."

Eager to be out of this man's presence, Zuko helped his companion regain his feet. And, because it seemed wrong not to, he forced himself to say, "Thank you."

Raizu Li smiled at him. Half his teeth were black. "Anything for your highness."

* * *

The upstairs room was even smaller than the lower story had been, and oppressive as only a windowless space could be. It was almost completely dark, and even when Zuko summoned a puff of flame, it remained depressingly bleak. The floors were bare, but they curled up with their backs to the wall anyway, weary from the day's stressful happenings.

Sokka seemed to be having an especially hard time keeping his eyes open. "Don't like him," he murmured. His head sunk against his chest.

Zuko nudged him. "You alright?"

"Tired," the tribesman responded. He sounded a little hoarse. How hard had that soldier gripped his throat?

Feeling a wave of concern, Zuko inched closer, putting his shoulder against Sokka's so that he had something to lean against other than the hard, comfortless wall. "I'll stay awake if you want to sleep," he offered, even though his own body ached for rest. "Sleep."

Sokka nodded. "For a few hours. Then you'll wake me. You…"

He was nodding off even as he spoke. Zuko answered, "I will. And in the morning we'll get out of here." He went so far as to attempt a joke. "I think we've gotten in enough of a mess for one trip. Imagine what your sister will do to me when she sees your face."

A sleepy chuckle. "_Kill you,_" the Water tribesman muttered. Then, cheekily, "But don't worry…I'll protect you."

* * *

It occurred to Zuko that he had dozed off when he awoke to narrow bars of light across his eyes and found that he could barely open them for the gummy buildup. Scrubbing his face, he found himself into the same tiny room from the night before, only less dim, as the poorly fitted planks let in the sun.

"Sokka," he reached automatically to shake the other boy awake, but his hand only met empty floorboards. That was enough to knock every ounce of sleep from his body. Panicked, his eyes wrenched around the room. "Sokka!"

No answer. Because no one else was there.

Zuko leapt to his feet. Sokka _wouldn't_ have left him here alone. He _wouldn't_ have ventured out into this place by himself. Not willingly. But how could any amount of struggle have failed to wake him?

He took the stairs at such a pace that he nearly tripped down them. No one in the lower rooms, no one outside in the yard. It was still cool dawn, lingering with the mist of a place near the ocean. He heard the cries of gulls, but few other noises.

Casting his gaze around, it was only by chance that he noticed the padlock missing from the shed. He pressed his lips together. There?

"Sokka?" he called as he pressed open the door. There wasn't much light, and he squinted, debating on calling up his own fire. However, there was straw under his feet, and bone-dry walls all around. If Sokka was in here, he didn't want to risk a stray draft setting this place alight. He called out again, "Sokka."

A faint rattling came to his ear from the furthest reaches of the enclosure, far beyond the reach of the faint light provided by the open door. Hesitantly, Zuko took a step into the abyss, eyes overlarge as though it might compensate for what he could not see. Another step.

He sensed the danger before he saw it, and wrenched his body backward as though to throw himself to the floor and out of the way. Unfortunately, the trap had been laid with just this in mind, and his attempt to fling himself to safety only resulted in the heavy chain twisting more hopelessly around his limbs.

Zuko felt himself loose contact with the ground, weightless. He twisted and wrenched, he yelled. Still the net held him fast, wrapping around his body as though it were alive, like an icy cold serpent. He could barely move his arms.

The sound of clapping came out of the back, followed by a hulking body. Raizu applauded him, staring up at the hopeless tangle. "A bit stupid, that's what I called you. And rightly so. That shouldn't have been so easy, boy."

Zuko snarled, dragging open his palms. He wanted so badly to grizzle this man into a smear of cinder, but his hands were pressed upon him awkwardly, held inward towards his own body. "_Let me down._"

"I don't think so, no," said his former rescuer, current captor. "You look a little piqued."

"What have you done with Sokka…Sozzu." The fire-bender bristled with a frustrated, infuriated terror. "_Where is he?"_

As though only too happy to comply, Raizu reached into the shadow and dragged out a boneless body by the foot. Reaching down, he tossed the younger man over one shoulder, where he dangled.

"I gave him something to help him sleep last night," the man explained. "But don't worry; he'll be fine before long. Just as soon as I get him on my ship."

"Why are you doing this? What do you want?" Zuko demanded. The chain web swung slightly when he moved, making him feel nauseated. Though maybe that was the desperation. "Where are you taking us?"

"Him," Raizu corrected. "You wouldn't sell well, unfortunately. Yer too old, and too much trouble. I'll have to get rid of you, but I haven't got time to take care of that without making a mess."

Zuko's stomach lurched as he absorbed all those words implied, and he swallowed hard. "We're nearly the same age."

The man shook his head. "Even if he's just a colonial like he says he is, then I can find a place for him with those eyes. My trade likes exotic. But I think I've stumbled upon even a better opportunity. Do you know what reward Lord Ozai would give for a Water tribe brat?"

Absolute disaster. It broke over Zuko like a tidal wave, or a hammer. "He isn't Water tribe." There was nothing to do but protest, but already he knew that it didn't matter. Raizu didn't care who or what Sokka truly was. Even without fully realizing what he had, he had enough. They both knew that.

"You just hang there and I'll see you in a week or so. If you haven't died by then, we may have to chat. You can scream. Maybe someone will come." The man shrugged. Then he pivoted, heading towards the door.

Zuko wanted to rage after him, but anguish clamped shut his mouth and dried up his words. Black links of metal pressed into him. Then Raizu was alone.

* * *

Time passed slow. Moments stretched interminably, and Zuko had already bloodied himself on the rusty coils in a vain attempt to fight free. Folly. Might was no ally here.

And meanwhile Sokka was being placed in a boat that would take him the last place on earth he needed to go, into the mouth of abject suffering. Torture was only the least descriptive expression of his father's capacity to hurt.

Zuko found himself thinking about Katara's condemning words in the Temple before they'd left. _Someone who couldn't be trusted to take care of others_, that's what she'd said of him. And she'd been right. Right.

Sokka. What would Sokka do. He found himself thinking about it as he sagged, his physical strength exhausted. Not thrash around brainlessly until he couldn't feel his own body, that was for certain. He'd _think_ of something, something brilliant and crazy. What would –

It occurred to Zuko out of nowhere, out of _nothing_, or so it seemed. Was this how the Sokka did it? Stunning innovation at the very moment of need?

There was risk. He could ignite the structure around him and burn to death in a conflagration of his own making. But there was _nothing else,_ no other way. He set his mouth determinedly, and concentrated on squirming his feet around so that they were pressed together against his metal prison.

* * *

Sokka was just beginning to regain consciousness when Raizu cast him bodily into the hull of his ship. It was a small, steam-powered belcher – more tub than boat, but swift for its size and able to move against the current. Head throbbing, the Southerner stirred restlessly, fighting to understand what was going on.

It was the smell of the sea and the gentle rocking of the craft that finally awakened him. Whatever else he knew, it was that he was _not_ supposed to be on the ocean.

"Wha–" he attempted to talk around the roughness of his throat, which felt sore and thick. He coughed weakly. "Where's Zuk..ka?" he asked.

"Yer friend is back at my home, undoubtedly occupied with contemplating what remains of his life. A very bleak and regretful refection, I'm sure."

"You hurt him?" Sokka felt as though he been clouted. A spike of pain drove through the consistent pounding, and he curled, fighting not to vomit. "You didn't…you didn't kill him?"

He must have looked pathetic enough that even a man like Raizu took pity. "He's not dead. Not even a scratch. But he won't be coming after you."

For the first time, Sokka was able to think clearly enough to realize what seemed to be happening. In a boat, restrained, alone. "You're taking me somewhere. To _someone_," he puzzled out. A moment's silence. Then, "Selling me. To who, you fat fart? You'll have to find another garrison. Even Fire Nation soldiers would think it pretty low to turn in your own son for reward."

"Spirited," Raizu said. "Good for you. Perhaps you'll live longer than your friend, though I doubt it. I don't know whether you're really Water Tribe or not; I've only see a few in my travels. But if I can't tell, then why should Lord Ozai? And even if he doesn't want you, there are plenty of others in the capital who might be interested…though for different reasons."

Contemptuously, Sokka glowered, refusing to be intimidated. "There's a special kind of suffering waiting for people like you. And I don't even believe in karma."

The fire-nation trader laughed. "I like you, boy. It's really a shame that things are this way. But business is business. An rescue for a trade for a shaft of gold."

The engine shuddered to life then, like a gurgle from a strangled throat. An expulsion of dark smoke was hacked from the stocky chimney at the ship's stern, and the tub gave a lurch forward in the water. Gathering momentum, they moved at a steady clip, riding the early waters which were already shimmering orange in the hot sun.

Mind racing, Sokka laid on his stomach and processed idea after idea for any merit. He had no choice but to work under the assumption that he was on his own. But going to Ozai was no option. He had to get free.

Unfortunately, his muscles still felt weak as cabbage soup. He could barely roll onto his side or stretch his toes. Whatever had been done to him was lingering. He was impossibly incapacitated.

Eventually his exhausted mind could only drift, eyelids sagging, stinging. But he would _not_ cry, not in frustration or pain or sheer unhappiness. Hazily, he attempted to regain his senses, but there was a pounding overcoming all this thoughts. Pounding. It sounded like someone running on metal.

It was like setting a fuse on fire. The thought weaved through him like a little light, exploding finally into full blown realization. He looked up, eyes wide.

_Zuko!_

The ship was moving through the water, but the bay butted up against the wall. He looked to the crest of it now, and sure enough someone was sprinting along the ridge of it, bolting so fleetly that their boots clanged like a smithy's hammers on the corrugated, rusted iron with every step. Slowly, he was gaining.

Sokka's bit down on his lip to hold back the cry of surprise and hope that welled in him. As he was facing the bay, distracted with this tasks, Raizu had not realized. Wouldn't realize until it was too late.

It was with a terrible cry that Zuko finally reached them and threw himself into an incredibly gracefully leap towards the small, sea-born vessel. For a moment, it almost seemed as though he had misjudged the distance and would go hurtling into the grey-green waters. But that would have been underestimating the fire-bender. Flexing his body into a tight curl, he made the extra distance easily, falling with a tumble that threatened to overturn the whole vessel.

Raizu cried out, jerking around with surprise. He muddled inquiry of "What in blaz'n –" was cut off by his open mouthed astonishment.

Zuko took a threatening step forward, fists bunched like death. "Get out of this boat," he said, guttural and mean. It was the voice of someone who'd killed and would kill. He repeated himself only once. "_Get out of this boat._"

Their was no argument. The trader heaved his wide body over the side without a moment's hesitation, dropping into the throbbing sea with his mouth still open and his yellowed eyes almost rolling with fear.

There was a wordless, empty moment. Then Zuko was moving to Sokka's side, untying the ropes and kneading feeling back into his friend's hands and feet. Amazed, almost too relieved to speak, Sokka asked, "How?"

Zuko smiled so infrequently that seeing the genuine expression on his face was quite something. He lifted the soles of his boots, the bottoms of which were charred black, burned so thoroughly that bits of pink flesh showed in places. "I was in a net made of chains. I couldn't get out of them when I struggled, but I tried to _think_, and I realized that while metal was too strong for me to break while it was cold, _heated_ metal weakens." He paused. "It took a long time. I'm sorry, Sokka."

"Sorry?" the tribesman squeaked. He would have laughed if he wasn't afraid he would cry instead. "You saved me. I'm going to rub it in Katara's face forever."

Zuko cleared his throat. "Actually, maybe we shouldn't tell her. I think I'd rather live with her contempt that try to explain to her how I nearly let someone sell her brother to the Fire Lord."

* * *

The ugly tub took them out of the bay and around to the rocks that they'd been warned were so treacherous. They ran the boat deliberately onto the shore, satisfied with the way it wedged into the sharp teeth immovably. If by chance anyone came looking to check the story of two colonial farm boys, they would find the shipwrecked boat just where Sokka had said it would be.

Then they headed inland.

Appa was pleased to see them again. Restlessly, he worried over the Southerner, stroking his bruised face with his great tongue until Sokka actually had to rebuke him. Fully ready to get off the island, the two boys pulled themselves onto the beast's back and buried themselves in the soft fur. They were asleep even before the bison had reached a decent height, trusting the animal to take them home.

Home was a funny word for Zuko to use, even half-asleep and aching head-to-toe beside a snoring Water Tribesman. He took a moment to reflect that his uncle would be impressed with how weird his destiny had become.

He woke much later in the evening as they sailed in a peaceful quiet through the nighttime sky. It always impressed him how soundless it seemed when one was up this high. It wasn't at all like an airballon. No fire, no engine, no scrape of metal. Just air.

To his surprise, Sokka was already sitting up, propped against the side of the saddle. He smiled when Zuko struggled to his knees and came to settle stiffly beside him. "Hey," he said tiredly.

That seemed like a good thing to say. "Hey."

They didn't move for a while. Zuko understood why if Sokka was even half as sore as he was. However, eventually they moved from quiet contemplation to soft conversation. The tribesman led off: "I'm glad you're not dead."

Zuko snorted. "No comment about how convenient it would have been if I'd starved in chains _before_ I joined the group?"

That didn't get the response he expected. Sokka turned his head away. "What a stupid thing to say."

Frowning, Zuko wondered aloud, "What's with you? That was supposed to be funny."

Sokka rebuked him, "Acting as though we'd be glad if you died is never going to be funny. Especially when you sound like you're not sure it isn't true."

That was like cold water in the face. Paralyzed, Zuko wondered. Did he really believe that? Slowly, he said, "I would understand if you did. I don't blame your sister for hating me. I did a lot of terrible things to you."

He'd never seen Sokka really angry. It was an enlightening experience for him. "You're the most incredibly thick-headed moron that I've ever met!" he declared. Turning fully to Zuko, he hissed, "_I don't want you to die_! Don't you get that you're family?"

He couldn't have more confounded Zuko if he had declared that the fire-bender was related to a cabbage slug. "I-I," he stammered, eyes widened.

But Sokka's irritation had passed, and in it's place was a look of sharp resolve. "You listen. We don't do thinks temporarily in the Water Tribe. Everything we do is so we can survive together. It's a harsh place sometimes." He admitted, and glanced down at his hands. But the moon was reflecting strongly off Appa's white fur, making it glow like ivory or a patchwork of snow. "It's about tribe - family, you understand? You take care of what belongs to you. And when you accept someone, you never take it back. Ever."

The fire-bender shifted uncomfortably. It was obvious he didn't quite get it.

"It's why Katara was so upset with you," Sokka tried again, more forcefully. "Any why she hasn't accepted you. If she does, then its _for life_, get it? We aren't going to abandon you, Zuko. We can't. You're tribe, at least to me. My father too. He trusts me, trusting you."

And then there it was, recognition of his words. It made Zuko's eyes stretch, the yellow catching the light so that they almost glowed, catlike. He opened his mouth, stammering, "N-no."

Sokka only nodded, kicking his heels as though nothing particularly important had been said. He seemed relieved, in fact, that Zuko had finally grasped the concept. Zuko go the sense that if he'd been another boy sired on an iceberg, this wouldn't have even needed to be said. But since the fire-bender was a little slow and had such a rotten history when it came to such things, Sokka had been patient and spelled it out.

Zuko was overwhelmed.

"I'm telling you that so you can stop being so annoyingly tense all the time, like we're just not going to be there when you wake up," Sokka said. "We're not going anywhere, Zuko, and neither are you. And no one wishes you would die, not even my sister. She'd cry and cry if something happened to you. Do you understand?"

The former prince of the Fire Nation looked across the blue darkness of the immense sky. It was too dark for the expression on his face to be clear, and he was glad. These kinds of conversations were better in the dark.

A little hoarsely, he answered Sokka. "I understand."

* * *

They made it back to the Western Air Temple without any further problems. The others were all waiting for them there, some more anxiously than others. "Sokka, are you alright?" Katara had cast down her cooking utensils and immediately gone to assess his injured face.

Suki was there too, hovering at his side.

"I'm fine," he assured them, shrugging helplessly at the attentions of the instant women. His cheek and eye looked terrible, but undoubtedly would heal in a few days. Faster, if his sister had anything to say about it.

"Good news?" Aang asked Zuko hopefully. The others stood nearby, all clearly waiting. The fire-bender caught the firm azure of the eldest tribesman particularly. He thought of what Sokka had said, about the older man trusting him.

If Sokka hadn't been busy, he would have made a joke. Zuko wasn't really equal to such things, but it seemed an appropriate moment to try. He offered, "Well, we didn't die. That's good news right?"

Blank-faced looks, mild astonishment.

It was Sokka who saved him. "We got captured by police and sold into slavery and crashed a boat and drank nasty tea. Oh! And I played with one of those big rhino monsters. One of them impaled me, because Zuko wasn't paying attention."

"Liar!" Zuko snarled, knowing that exaggerated or not he was certain to be blamed.

Suki had pressed her hair under her boyfriend's chin, saying, "Sounds like quite an adventure." But she sounded cheerful. Like the rest of the group, it was obvious that she didn't believe a word that Sokka had said.

The former prince marveled at he way the other boy could do that. Only Hakoda was looking contemplative, as though he knew his son too well and was wondering what to accept. He caught Zuko's eye, and gave him an evaluating look. But ultimately he seemed to conclude that the two had not died, and that would have to be enough.

He favored Zuko with a slight smile. _Thank you. Good boy_. It was more praise than Zuko could ever remember receiving from his own father, even silently. Tribe. His thoughts returned to offer Sokka had made him.

It meant he didn't have to be apart. However strange the pieced-together family this gang had made, he belonged to it, too. Zuko breathed, feeling light and strange. A surrogate family.

It was sort of incredible.

* * *

Author's Note: I vacillated over whether I felt like including Hakoda and Suki in this. It more appropriately reflected cannon since _The Boiling Rock_ doesn't particularly demonstrate the development of a friendship between Sokka and Zuko that you'd expect if they'd had a former excursion together. So I guess I'll just make the assumption that this occurs in the gap between 3:15 and 16 when Azula attacks. Because Sokka and Zuko need to be buddies – I already decided.


End file.
